


Disillusional

by TeamAlphaQ



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst (sort of), Angst with Sad Ending, Drabble, I have no idea what I just wrote, Literally I just started writing and didn't stop, M/M, Not as bad as most of my stuff, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:29:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamAlphaQ/pseuds/TeamAlphaQ
Summary: He attacks, and Izaya has every right to laugh at him.Because once you subtract the knives and the cuts and the flying fists and the destroyed goalpost, it’s really just a matter of Shizuo creeping up behind the person he likes and pulling their hair.





	Disillusional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tousled_Sky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tousled_Sky/gifts).



> XD SO!
> 
> This is a strange little one-shot with the theme of Unrequited Love, requested by Tousled_Sky. If any of you haven't read their story Unrequited then stop reading this right now because holy hell it's an amazing story and it made me cry the first time I read it and almost made me cry again the second.
> 
> Seriously. It's amazing.
> 
> This story is one of the two promised one-shots. Don't worry, the next one will be much more thought out XD I plan to make that one almost as good as Tousled_Sky's one-shot so they flow seamlessly. 
> 
> But enough of that for now,
> 
> ENJOY!

You could ask him when he realized it, but that would be pointless. Shizuo wouldn’t be able to answer if he wanted to.

It isn’t exactly something that just happens one day out of the blue. He never woke up and said,  _ today is the day everything changes, _ because change is fluid and it’s always taking place. Even when he doesn’t want it to.

He wouldn’t have ever known. Shizuo would have gone on with his life living in blissful ignorance of this small yet life-changing fact and would have been perfectly happy like that. Why understand when it’s easier to ignore? Except other people notice and eventually, someone says something.

That person is Celty, as it turns out.

When it happens Shizuo has to read the words on her PDA three times since he can’t believe they’re real the first two. It’s so far out of left field that his brain short circuits for a moment as several scaring images flash through his mind. Once he finds his voice though, he can’t help but yell at the woman in incredulity.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!? Why are you asking me that shit???”

Celty shrugs, doesn’t flinch away from him despite his outburst. She rarely does.  **_[Because I see it every day and I wanted to know if you saw it too. It’s pretty obvious honestly.]_ ** That isn’t the answer he expects and it silences Shizuo for a moment as he goes over his life quickly and wonders where she’s getting this from.

Eventually, he gives up and asks it. “How would you know shit about how I feel if I don’t know shit about it myself?”

**_[Because I know what it feels like and believe me, it’s_ ** **always** **_a surprise.]_ **

~•~

Children in elementary school were strange. Estranged as he was from the other kids, Shizuo saw it first hand from an unbiased view. It pissed him off more often than not because they never made a lick of sense and yet everyone else seemed to just understand. Nod and say  _ kids, right? _ Like that made everything okay.

One thing he found particularly weird was how the boys showed affection in those confusing years before they even knew what puberty or attraction was. There was apparently an unspoken rule among the younger grades that if a boy liked a girl, he’d pull her hair or tease her. Every single boy adhered to that norm like it was writ in stone.

Shizuo thought they were strange for it. Why on earth would you cause someone you liked pain and discomfort on purpose? He always told himself it was to get their attention but even at age nine Shizuo was convinced that this was a piss poor way to go about it. But then how would he know when he’d never liked a girl before and had therefore never had to get her attention while focusing on not acting awkward or creepy in general.

It was a defense mechanism that Shizuo thought he would never use. And he never really did because once he got older, pulling hair wasn’t exactly acceptable anymore and teasing was useless because at that point it was almost guaranteed. Of course, it helped that he never came across someone he liked, but still, he had principles.

Naturally, it was only then that  _ he _ showed up. Like it was inevitable, everything after that was just shot to shit.

~•~

The blond always told himself that when the time came and he found someone he could tolerate, who tolerated him in return and wasn’t afraid of his strength and anger at all, he’d be mature about it and say it to their face. Express whatever version of those fateful words he conjured up on the spot and carefully make sure that they understood.

_ I like you. _

_ I love you. _

_ I don’t dislike you. _

Something like that.

He wasn’t going to hurt them or get frustrated with them or blow up in their face because if Shizuo actually managed to find someone he could like, even  _ love, _ then clearly, they wouldn’t be the sort to annoy him. Because why on earth would he ever consider someone who just pissed him off as anything other than a thorn in his side?

That would just be ridiculous.

~•~

Shizuo knew he was a monster, knew that everyone was either afraid of him, wary of him, or hated him. By age fifteen, he ceased to care. There wasn’t any point in wearing his heart on his sleeve when everyone took off running the moment he walked into a room. It hurt too much, so he just buried it deep and let it make his rage worse.

Eventually, he just forgot it was there.

Then one day, he remembers.

Emotions, feelings, the desire to get to know another individual. And he only remembers because the reason is sitting on the soccer goal and smirking at him. Black hair, black jacket, black pants, red shirt, red eyes.

An evil laugh that sends shivers down his spine.

“Shizu-chan,” this boy calls him, like a pet name. Like he’s trying to put a collar around Shizuo’s neck to tame him like a dog. Him with his superiority and infuriating smile. But the name means something else to Shizuo that floors him. This person is not afraid.

_ He’s not afraid of me. _

Except that doesn’t make him fall to the ground in awe and beg this creature for his name and for his companionship, it just makes Shizuo see red because he doesn’t understand any other emotions and hate is very easy to parse out. The anger is entirely unjustified and completely irrational but it’s what comes flying out of his mouth at the boy.

“It’s Shizuo Heiwajima! Who the fuck are you?”

_ Izaya. _

It’s Izaya Orihara and instantly that name becomes synonymous with danger and passion.

Passionate hate at least.

_ This is Izaya, Shizuo-kun. He’s another friend of mine. _

Izaya proceeds to taunt him, proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that the name Heiwajima only strikes terror in the hearts of some. Shizuo’s response to this overloading of his brain is almost ironic.

He attacks, and Izaya has every right to laugh at him.

Because once you subtract the knives and the cuts and the flying fists and the destroyed goalpost, it’s really just a matter of Shizuo creeping up behind the person he likes and pulling their hair.

~•~

Shizuo’s not sure when it started, but he knows that he’s always been able to appreciate bits and pieces of Izaya. Like the way his feet skim over the pavement like he’s flying. As if he really is above this world and is choosing to grace Tokyo with his presence. He just seems to float out of danger, whether it be over a rooftop or down an alley, Izaya always gets away too fast for it to be natural.

And the blond never fails to watch with admiration because it’s truly impressive.

But he swears up and down that he hates Izaya because the man still pisses him off. Mostly because of what he’s done, but originally just because Izaya wasn’t scared. The very thing Shizuo used to tell himself he wanted turned into the reason why he will always chase Izaya, even when it’s stupid.

Even when they both get far too old for such childish shit.

~•~

Another thing he grudgingly likes are Izaya’s insults. This is probably the most self-defeating thing possible but Shizuo hasn’t seen them as true insults since he graduated high school. At some point, he’d figured out what they all meant.

Izaya isn’t human, he can’t speak the language. So he instead communicates through a facsimile, a string of cutting words that jab at the chinks in people’s armor. It took Shizuo a while to get it and sometimes the Raven’s words really do piss him off but he understands them. Because Izaya’s words are nothing but an attempt at communication. The real meaning is what Shizuo sees in Izaya’s eyes.

He witnesses the raw feelings instead of Izaya’s twisted interpretations of them.

Hate, amusement, admiration, jealousy, fear.

Obsession.

Shizuo wonders if Izaya can read him as easily. His way of dealing with it is letting all of everything out at once, knowing that if he can’t understand it, Izaya will probably be confused by it too.

But Izaya seems to like being surprised.

~•~

What Shizuo loves most out of all of it though is that Izaya always comes back. Just like the girl who claims she hates the boys teasing her yet always comes back and sits just close enough to them to catch their attention, Izaya pops up in Ikebukuro like clockwork. Always with those insults and those quick feet.

He comes back to Shizuo like an alley cat who knows where he might find shelter or food, but isn’t willing to be tied down. It probably has something to do with the fact that Shizuo’s idea of pinning him down actually involves pinning him to a wall with a street sign. Truly a romantic gesture, Shinra mocks whenever Shizuo brings it up.

_ “You’re not one for flowers after all, all you have for him is a vending machine and a bouquet of street signs.” _ Shinra shakes his head after he says this, he always does, always with that knowing look on his face.  _ “God, you might as well be together already.” _

~•~

In the end, this is why Shizuo doesn’t just forget what Celty said. Because he realizes that maybe what he’s always taken to be hate is really just a thin guise for something else.

~•~

Izaya calls him his  _ precious monster. _ That, more than anything, is what makes him wonder if maybe he’s been misreading this situation the entire time.

It’s a common phrase that tumbles from Izaya’s lips as easily as  _ idiot brute _ or  _ silly Shizu-chan. _ But he always purrs it so sincerely like it means something. Suddenly, Shizuo finds himself hoping it does which is purely ridiculous.  _ I hate him. _

That’s what he thinks, but there’s a flicker of remembered emotion that’s been boiling in his chest for some time now and like change, he’s not sure if he wants it. But it starts to surface, just like the questions into Izaya’s behavior.

The man has always just been the Flea. The  _ fucking Flea, why won’t you just leave me the hell alone, get out of my city! _ It’s silly to think of him as anything more.

But he always comes back, and he always treats Shizuo reverently and there’s always that look of odd obsession in his eyes when they fight. God knows it doesn’t even feel like a fight anymore. Shizuo would almost call it a game. 

Izaya grins too much for him to mean it when he says that Shizuo is the only one he’ll ever hate. The blond knows what distorted view on love the man has, is it really such a jump to assume that Izaya doesn't quite have all his ducks in a row when it comes to hate as well?

Precious monster, like Shizuo is his and only his. Like he belongs to Izaya in some strange way. Implicitly stating that he’s important to the Raven in a way that other humans just aren’t. Maybe he’s using it as a lilting insult but the sincerity in his eyes says something different. It says that he means it for what it really is.

Shizuo wants it to be true, and he knows then that Celty is right.

More than that though, he has to acknowledge that he’ll have to finally grow up if he wants to get anywhere with this. He can’t keep ‘pulling Izaya’s hair’, he’s got to look him in the eyes and talk to him. Shizuo isn’t scared of much. This though, this is frightening.

Which just makes it all the more sweet. Izaya’s right, not knowing is sometimes the best feeling in the world.

~•~

His opportunity comes and he’s actually ready for it. Both of them are in the alley together, Izaya sits on a window ledge and stares down calculatingly at Shizuo. All the blond sees is the dark excitement and amusement behind his eyes.

“Oh Shizu-chan, my wonderful,  _ precious _ monster.” Izaya sing-songs, twirling a knife with one hand and waving grandly with the other. “What  _ am _ I going to do with you? You hardly needed to destroy the  _ entire _ corner mart. Really, it was one comment.”

But Shizuo ignores the majority of that mocking soliloquy in favor of that single phrase that’s been jumping out at him for a while now. And he asks, because the filter between his mind and his mouth vanished at age fifteen when he chose not to need it.

“Precious monster, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” It comes out rough and abrasive but just as insults are Izaya’s bread and butter, Shizuo has only ever spoken in rumbling growls and furious snarls. It doesn’t deter Izaya in the slightest. It would take more than  _ that _ to scare him away.

“Ne, exactly what it sounds like.”

Shizuo’s insides  _ don’t _ jump. He just scowls.

“You’re my wonderful experiment, my favorite game. You’re one of a kind Shizu-chan, entirely unique.” And those words aren’t what he expects and that  _ definitely _ makes his stomach lurch. “Such a monster, yet so contradictory. You’re just endless hours of entertainment. If you went and died, that would be terrible inconvenient. Why else would I call you a precious monster?” Izaya tilts backwards as sharp laughter echoes from his chest.

“I dunno!” Shizuo’s heart  _ doesn’t _ hurt. “You’re the sick freak.”

Izaya’s eyes widened in a dramatic show of surprise. “Me~ But however could I have twisted that to be anything else?” He laughs again but this time, it dies away as his eyes narrow in concentration. The idea makes him murmur with glee.

“Gasp, was Shizu-chan scared I harbored deep unspoken feelings of love for him?” Izaya bites his lip to hold back more mirth. “Silly Shizu-chan, even I’m not that twisted. You’re just a play toy, don’t worry. I’m not composing you poems by moonlight.” He holds up his hands in a mock show of innocence. “No ink stains on these fingers Shizu-chan. You can sleep easy knowing that I’m not watching you sleep.”

Slipping off of the window sill, Izaya creeps closer to Shizuo who still isn’t moving. The blood is rushing in his ears because even if he’s only just put a name to it, he’s always just  _ assumed _ that deep down the two of them were the same. That once the pretences were stripped away, they had the same base instincts and emotions towards the other.

But apparently Shizuo's wrong. In the end, they're vastly different.

And that  _kills_ him.

“That would have been a delicious game though,” Izaya muses, tilting his head like he’s considering it even now. “Make you believe that I liked you, even  _ loved _ you. Ah, the look on your face when you found out would have been priceless. Wouldn’t that have just burned. You’d have been  _ disgusted _ and  _ horrified.” _ Izaya laughs breezily. “You might actually kill me if I did that.”

A disappointed sigh in the face of Shizuo’s stony, stunned silence. “But alas, I suppose it wouldn’t work now.” Twirling his knife, Izaya glides it by Shizuo’s cheek, leaving a shallowly bleeding cut in his wake in the same way that a lover might leave a faint kiss behind. “Put your tiny little protozoan brain to rest Shizu-chan. You don’t have to worry about me falling for someone like you.”

He even winks, like he’s being kind to Shizuo for once.

“Now, shall we dance?” And then he darts off quicker than Shizuo’s glazed eyes can track him.

Shizuo stands there a moment, silent. Like a nervous tick, the muscles in his jaw jump once. It doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. It doesn’t mean a thing. Izaya’s right, it’s all just hate and grudges that will never die.

It could never be...

Suddenly, his hand flies out and slams into the wall to his right. The building trembles under his emotions. The crater he leaves behind is deeper than usual, actually breaking through to the insulation and drywall. But that’s it. That’s his only reaction. Shizuo won’t allow himself anything more.

Instead, he lets out a thunderous roar of, “I-ZA-YA!” and gives chase.

If he snaps the Flea’s neck then all the better.

**Author's Note:**

> Ne, I really have to stop staying up so late xD
> 
> But it was worth it. A little healing balm to make the pain Despite All left behind fade away. 
> 
> Thank you Tousled_Sky for giving me the opportunity to write something for you ^-^
> 
> ~later my darlings


End file.
